


Gilded Cage

by KarasuNei



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Metaphorical imageries, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuNei/pseuds/KarasuNei
Summary: "It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.” - Chaos Theory





	Gilded Cage

“There was a customer today.”

 

The silence was expectant, settling into every curve of kiseru smoke. Mismatched-eyes watched it float into the starless night, considering the memory, more so to himself than his companion. Minutes passed by, leaving the umeshu forgotten. And yet, Doumeki did not press.

 

“That person seemed familiar somehow. Even though she said she was a customer of the previous shopkeeper.”

 

There was a faraway look in Watanuki’s eyes. The pipe clinked delicately in her cradle, accompanied by the soft rustle of silk, slipping over a snow white shoulder. The current shopkeeper didn’t fix his robes, fingertips playing at the peak of his chin.

 

“But you never met this person?”

 

“No. I never have. I would have remembered.” For the first time since before their meal, Watanuki stared straight into Doumeki’s eyes, “Wouldn’t I?”

 

His companion offered no answer. 

 

*****

_ He did not expect a customer today. But when Watanuki went to water his roses at the front of the shop, there she stood, looking up at the building with an almost dreamy expression. _

 

_ She was beautiful. Tall and elegant, she wore a Western suit that hugged her curves at just the right places. Dark hair fell in tasteful arches, framing her angular face, whilst the rest was swept into a thick bun at the base of her skull. Blue eyes were as deep as the night, made darker by her pale skin and startling under sweeping lashes. _

 

_ “Ah, my apologies, I did not mean to intrude.” _

 

_ Broken out of his thoughts, Watanuki blinked rapidly, as if he was trying to chase a dream away. “No, not at all. You wouldn’t be here unless you were meant to be here, would you?” _

 

_ Without even considering his words, she smiled. Gentle and so nostalgic, it sent a chill Watanuki’s spine. _

 

_ “I suppose not.” _

 

_ The woman didn’t speak much even when they entered the shop. Moro, Maru and Mokona often never showed themselves to a customer, however Watanuki almost wished for them to be there with him today. Because this silence was almost suffocating, punctured precisely by the clinking of cup and saucer. _

 

_ And Watanuki still couldn’t take his eyes off of her, a face so familiar yet he couldn’t quite place his fingers on  _ why _.  _

 

_ “Being in here...You came to make a wish?” _

 

_ Her gaze went through him, a smile playing at the bow of her blood-red lips, a knowing smile that had his grip tightened on the armrest, “In a sense, yes.” _

 

*****

 

“That’s it?”

 

Normally, Watanuki would have reacted more to Doumeki’s special brand of expressionless expression. But the shopkeeper leaned over the table instead, cheek cradled in a palm, brows pinched.

 

“She did tell me her name, Shouhei, and that she was a customer of the previous owner.”

 

The silence was heavier this time. As the words were repeated, something ugly and hopeful churned in the air between them.

 

“But only the people with powers…”

 

“I know.” Watanuki cut Doumeki off, his frustration cracked the glass of his mask. 

 

Unfazed as ever, “Did you ask?”

 

“I would if I could!” Watanuki snapped. Across the table, Doumeki narrowed his eyes. Watanuki turned away, picking up the kiseru once more and leveling his voice, “It just felt...off, somehow.”

 

“Off?”

 

“The silence. I…” He stopped himself. Puffs of smoke escaped, frailer and void of leisure, as Watanuki searched for words, “It felt like she was in a dream. Even though she was right there in front of my eyes, it felt like if I reached out, she would dissolve.”

 

He lifted his fingers, weaving them around the smoke, and watched as the misty tendrils disappeared, “If I made a wrong choice, the dream would have been broken. So I did not choose.”

 

“You’re stalling.”

 

“What kind of statement is that??? Why would I stall when I don’t even know what that person wants? When I don’t know what she is?” Watanuki huffed, giving up on his pipe altogether.

 

Truth rang clear despite how much it irked him. And Watanuki hated it whenever Doumeki was right. His skin prickled where Doumeki stared at him, stubbornness prevented Watanuki from meeting eyes.

 

“ _ What _ is she?”

 

“Would I have asked if I knew?” Watanuki grumbled, arms folding like a petulant child, “I couldn’t feel her presence. When she walked through the shop’s threshold, the kekai should have told me. But it didn’t, and she could have stood there the whole day if I didn’t come to the shop’s front.”

 

“There is no coincident…”

 

“Only hitsuzen.” 

 

Strangely enough, his heart still quivered in the pinpricks of pain. They sunk into silence once more, only ever disturbed here and there by the swaying grass. Doumeki’s stare never wavered and Watanuki, as always, wasn’t going to spare his attention to guess what was going on behind that stoic face.

 

That woman, Shouhei, hadn’t set foot in this shop for the last time. Whatever business she still had here was not finished, not even by  _ Yuuko-san _ it seemed.

 

Palm opened atop his lap, Watanuki bowed his head.  _ Even after all this time? _

 

“It’s cold. Get some warm sake.”

 

“Go get it yourself, you stupid oaf!”

 

*****

 

“What is your wish? One that you want fulfilled?”

 

The clink of china was delicate, but it was enough to set Watanuki on edge. Shouhei smiled that same smile, familiar and all-knowing. She hadn’t showed up for a month, and not a single day passed without Watanuki checking the shop front. This time, the woman was early, arriving mere minutes after Doumeki had left. 

 

Watanuki wasn’t going to lie to himself, especially not in his thoughts,he had half a mind to call Doumeki back.

 

Shouhei dressed more casually today, her dark dress decorated in lace that matched the piercing blue of her eyes,  “Perhaps what I wish for now isn’t truly a wish. Perhaps it is but an extension of the wish I had made here.”

 

“But if it isn’t a wish that you have, then you wouldn’t be here.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“...I cannot help if you won’t tell me what it is.”

 

Shouhei’s chuckle was a pretty thing just like herself, tinkling, delicate and eerie, “I suppose not.”

 

*****

 

“You should have called.”

 

Watanuki huffed, his irritation rearing up much quicker than usual, “And what? What are you going to do? Run back from ork risking being fired to stare at this nice, quiet lady? I don’t think so.”

 

The air had started to have a bite to it, making one draw their coat a bit tighter. The shopkeeper had his back turned at Doumeki, inspecting his plants with great interest and snipping away dead leaves with much more scrutiny than usual.

 

“That’s it?”

 

“...That’s it.” He answered with a scowl. They fell into silence then, uneasy and colder than the edging winter breeze. Watanuki didn’t feel like speaking today. He wouldn’t confirm or deny it had anything to do with Doumeki’s presence.

 

“...I brought chicken. Go make mizutaki.”

 

“You can’t just show up after two weeks then demand diner. If you want to eat it so much, then go make it yourself.”

 

Something writhed within Watanuki in reaction to the sharpness of his own voice. Still, the shopkeeper didn’t turn around, but that was inconsequential. He was tired of looking at Doumeki’s indifference anyway. 

 

_ To everything and everyone around him. _

 

His grip tightened around his shears, feeling Doumeki’s approach. Watanuki kept his back straight, refusing to react. Doumeki stopped a few meagre feet away. Hesitated.

 

“Is this because I brought yau choy instead of gai choy the other day?”

 

The shears missed Doumeki’s ear by a hair. The noise that escaped Watanuki was loud, ugly and frustrated, because all the words to his rant was lost on the way out. He couldn’t quite explain why he was so aggravated, well,  _ more aggravated than usual _ . Quite frankly however, Watanuki couldn’t bring himself to care. It had nothing to do with Doumeki not staying the nights for the last two weeks, not even for diner. Nor it had anything to do with  _ the news _ .

 

Watanuki made mizutaki anyway.

 

*****

 

She came again, when the first snow graced the earth. Her kimono was a stark contrast against pure white, black as ink and decorated with crimson flowers. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and the dreamy look in Shouhei’s eyes swayed Watanuki’s steps as he welcomed this supposed customer inside.

 

“You are not of this world, are you?”

 

Her smile was kind, hidden under a frame of lashes, “That is too broad of a question, Watanuki-kun.”

 

His brows furrowed. Both patience and curiosity stretched thin, but not yet enough to ripple the water. Fingers threaded together, Watanuki watched Shouhei over his glasses, waiting. Her breath of laughter was softer than a fallen feather.

 

“Time can make some details so hazy. Memory can be such a flicker thing, fluttering like a lost butterfly against the torrent of life.” 

 

Her voice was so soft, so familiar and yet not at all. His brows weighted down, contemplating his next words as if treading on glass.

 

“But  it has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.”

 

She tilted her head, eyes closed in her smile, “I suppose you can say you have witnessed it first-hand, then.” 

 

All the sudden, his mouth felt like it was filled cotton. His breathing was short, his eyes narrowed. Waiting.

 

“But for me to fly that far…” Shouhei’s smile changed, her sadness so inherent Watanuki could almost felt it brushing against his skin, “Perhaps I would need a new pair of wings.”

 

*****

 

“Are you going into the dream?”

 

Watanuki refilled his cup, scowling, “You are getting more oblivious by the day, aren’t you?” Then sighed when he was met with expectant silence, “I have tried. In fact, I have tried since she first appeared. But no matter where I went, there simply was a darkness ahead of me. Dreams are all connected, and yet hers was nowhere to be found. As if she does not exist.”

 

Once again, Doumeki watched Watanuki closely, with the latter pretending that he didn’t notice. 

 

“Call me next time she is at the shop.”

 

“...No.”

 

“Don’t be stubborn.”

 

“This has nothing to do with  _ stubborn _ .” Watanuki scoffed out a half-truth. Sobered up, he adjusted his glasses without a need to, frowning at the night. “Whoever... _ whatever _ she is, she isn’t there for you to see. That I am certain of.”

 

He never told Doumeki that neither Mokona nor the twins could feel Shouhei’s presence. It was worrisome and none of the shop’s permanent residents could explain why. Watanuki just didn’t feel like speaking to Doumeki about it.

 

Was Watanuki being petty? Why was he, when there was no reason to be petty about?

 

“...How is the preparation?” He changed the subject, annoyance and a drop of anger in his voice.

 

“It’s going well.”

 

A surge of something...twisted curled at the pit of his stomach. Lips drawn into a thin line, Watanuki glared up at the starless sky.

 

Unattached and indifferent. But really, what else had he expected from Doumeki Shizuka?

 

“How is Kohane-chan?” Along with the increasing anger, there was also bitterness.

 

“Well.”

  
  


*****

 

The cold was biting when she visited next, bundled in a luxurious fur coat and flitting dress. Shouhei’s hair was in an elaborate updo this time, tastefully adorned by a butterfly brooch. 

 

Heart dancing in his chest, Watanuki lit up his kiseru, “Seems like your business is not yet finished here.”

 

“ _ Here _ is a broad statement, Watanuki-kun.” Her smile was almost terrifying in its gentleness, painted fingers tracing the rim of the cup so absent-minded in an almost-reverence. Shouhei didn’t speak for a while and Watanuki thought her visit would end just like the previous times, leaving him with more questions than answers. 

 

“I was once fixated on a bird. I still am, strictly speaking.” 

 

Shouhei paused for a sip of tea, eyes closed. Something pricked at the back of Wataknuki’s mind, holding him frozen in his seat. 

 

“Was that the wish you made then?”

 

Her gaze pierced into his soul, lips quirked up, miserable, “You can say that.”

 

“...Do you regret it?”

 

“No.” The answer was non-hesitant, but her voice was soft, “Though I could have phased it better.”

 

Pulse quickening, Watanuki gripped his own fingers so tightly his skin turned blue, “I don’t think...If you wish to undo the wish that had previously been made here, I don’t think I have the power to do so.”

 

There was a spark in her eyes, knowing and mischievous, ghosting over the inherent sadness, “How so?”

 

“If you wish to undo something that Yuuko-san granted, I’m afraid I cannot help you.”

 

Her smile widened, to a degree that made Watanuki sink into his seat, “But I never said it was the previous owner who granted my wish.”

 

Goosebumps were both hot and cold on his skin, Watanuki stood, his legs trembled. Arms reached out to her, a name caught at the tip of his tongue. She sat there, smile still heartbreakingly beautiful, still so achingly familiar. 

 

Before their skin touched, she burst into a million butterflies, fluttering away into the abyss. A nightmare repeated itself, as Watanuki’s scream was swallowed by the darkness. Tried as he might, he could never gather all of them, their frail wings faded into vapours in his hands. And he fell, down into the shadow that was once his shop, falling and crying after the disappearing butterflies...

 

*****

 

Watanuki woke, tear-stained and tucked in under his luxurious quilt. Doumeki hovered nearby, a hand around his arm.

 

“She was there…” He choked, arm crossed over his eyes, face contorted as pain clawed at the inside of his chest, “It was her. She was there...She was here…”

 

Doumeki, ever so predictable, sat unmoving and wordless. His presence was a solid reality, dry, motionless and  _ there _ , as opposed to  _ that person’s _ ethereality. Somehow, it made Watanuki resent Doumeki more, knowing that soon enough, what was certain would be taken away from him. The pointer was already used, he could never return to a point where he, Watanuki, was content to simply  _ exist _ . 

 

When his tears dried and his mask reconstructed, Watanuki was informed that the twins found him unconscious at the front of the shop in the morning. Doumeki showed up within less than half an hour. It was midnight when Watanuki woke up.

 

For once, he didn’t feel like cooking. For once, Doumeki had nothing to say about it.

 

“Shouldn’t you be home?”

 

There was a slight furrow in his brows, and his voice was ever so firm, so matter-of-factly, “I am home.”

 

Something caught at the back of Watanuki’s throat. Light like a feather, and yet bore the weight of all his suffering. He didn’t want to cry, not again, not in front of Doumeki, not after what just happened. He didn’t want to dwell on why the other’s man presence suddenly bothered him so much, to a point where seeing him was unbearable. Watanuki had made a point to complain in the past, sure, but never once had he truly wished to never see Doumeki around. Deep down inside, he knew and couldn’t bring himself to admit that Doumeki had grown to and around him, his presence part of Watanuki’s existence. 

 

Part of his memories.

 

As if his heart was embedded with glass shards, Watanuki clenched the front of his kimono, eyes closed behind his glasses. 

 

_ She _ had always had a way to phrase things. If one asked Watanuki, he would never say that he was particularly bright. The confession wasn’t out of modesty, because it was the truth. He drifted through life, his  _ previous life _ , without a compass. He was never meant to  _ be _ , never to become what he was today. Like a blind man, he was guided, by crutches and people on the way. More often than not, he was not able to see what was right in front of him. And Yuuko had never been the best at making things straight-forward.

 

There were things hidden from Watanuki, things that perhaps even Doumeki knew better than him. And it was fine. It was of no coincidence, and just like everything that had come to be in the past, these things would come to Watanuki when the time was right.

 

He just wished it would hurt a little less.

 

“This isn’t your home.” He whispered, feeling the shards of glass biting further into his heart, opening up old scars and cutting up new ones. 

 

Soon enough, the one solid presence by his side would no longer be there, and here Watanuki would remain: A bird in a gilded cage.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I feel like a terrible person after writing this. The boys didn't need more pain that they were already given :((((


End file.
